Morning reading | spring on the wall

Downstairs, the tall bushes are inky, and there is a little starlight not far away. In the trance moment, there were already children laughing at the lantern. I just suddenly realized that it was the New Year. I can't help but think of something very distant.

As soon as the moon enters, every household in northern Jinbei asks for "god". First of all, the door god of last year was invited down to replace the new sticker, and Qin Shubao and Wei Chigong stood side by side, with a calm face. Guan Laoye no longer reads Spring and Autumn, and holds only a gold yuanbao in his arms. Grandma stuck and chanted, "The gold bricks on the ground are three feet high, and the diamonds and pearls are sprinkled all over the road..."

It seems that there are water gods in waters all over the country, but there is no full-time water god in China? The water god is not like the vesta god Vesta, the whole country is unified, and the whole world is the same.

The water gods are mostly female, because of the yin of water? The jellyfish niangniang of the Taiyuan Jinci Temple is a water goddess, but its clay sculptures are plump and rich, but they are more like noble concubines. If you have not been to the source of the Fenhe River, you must go to it, only by being in the situation can you understand that the water god here is absolutely unique in the world.

A little country lady, sitting by the water, sat on a water urn in a small cave and combed her hair. Shrines, idols, incense sticks, exquisite and exquisite craftsmanship, but the water outside the cave is not small. The water is not only not small, it can really be described as surging and huge. There was a slight tremor under the feet, a roar in the ears, and if it was the season of water, the sound of the water could be described as a loud cloud.

One year during the Spring Festival, my father was in a good mood, so he went with his family to the source of the Fenhe River. My father's friend was from Ningwu County, and when he was tired of playing, he went straight to his house and ate a well-known Ningwu silver plate mushroom. It is cooked with the water of the Fen river. Stewed, fried, stir-fried, and even eaten and taken, its taste is delicious, even after many years, it is still wonderful to think of it now.

In my memory, when my father lived in the "study class", he was once asked by the village party secretary to be a "painter" - to paint a mural for a small temple in the village. It is impossible to say which faction this temple belongs to, the nature of "everything". People went one after another, seeking marriage and peace, and asking sons and daughters for all things to be perfect. There is such a small temple that everyone can go to, and every year in the village, when the dry season comes, praying for rain also comes here, as if prostrating one can also knock out a dragon king. But my father's hobby of painting was inherited.

In the New Year, my father would write and paint. The most painted is the plum blossom. I hid behind the door and saw my father standing silently in front of the book case, every ten seconds before he picked up his pen. However, in my opinion, I don't know what a technique is, but it is just an essay dot dye. What do you want to draw after a plum blossom painting? There are no lotus flowers in northern Jin, but the Kang wai paintings of the people of northern Jin are the most popular, especially the hundred flowers are the most popular - autumn chrysanthemums, winter plums, orchids, camellias, and the four corners of the painting lotus, are rare flowers in the north, full of colorful and brilliant, a good spring on the wall of flowers.

I held my breath and saw the lotus pond reflected little by little in my father's pen. Ten o'clock, the ink dot is deep and shallow, I know, this is the lotus. A bend represents the bridge to see the lotus. I heard my father whisper, "Cut the complexity and simplify it." Color! I hesitated, always feeling as if something was missing, and saw him quickly nod on the bridge. If the flower man seems to have nothing, he stands upright. That picture was really special, a bustle in the silence that I could hardly experience when I was a child.

Father drew happily, using ochre to paint two grasshoppers in the color of wheat straw. Draw a few strokes to say, "Green grasshopper red belly, can it look good?" I was dumbfounded.

After drawing the painting, the father would pick up the drawing paper and hang it on the wall opposite the bookcase, and then take three steps back and look left and right.

What to see? Hang up to do it?

My father snorted in his nose, but he didn't look at me, and said, "Looking at the tiger flat, hang up and look at it, it may turn into a cat!" ”

In memory, my father painted plums, not one branch at a time, not one by one, but whenever the pen is dropped, it is in pieces. Thick and light ink, natural smudge, even if people who do not understand calligraphy and painting at all see it, they also feel elegant. I have asked my father many times which sect he really belongs to, and most of the time he is silent, asking a tired question, "The north wind is mighty and exclusive!" "I was just a perfunctory joke, and now that my father is long gone, I am in a moment of trance, and the flowers and trees have quietly woken up in the lonely and long winter, and Ben is not in the new green or a small flower. Spring water is born, spring flowers are in full bloom, spring wind is beautiful for ten miles, since it comes, it must be the spring color of the sky. (Wang Yao)